Let Tonight Be Tonight
by LlamaCatastrophe
Summary: When Roger forgets a date that is important to Mimi, she decides that it is the last straw. When she receives a series of cryptic notes, her evening takes a magical turn, leaving her to piece together who her mystery suitor is. MM
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The characters of Mark and Mimi are a product of Jonathan Larson. I'm just borrowing them for awhile.

Note: Much love and thanks to my lovely BETA, Sara. Without her direction and eye for detail, this fic would have been a lot shorter, with a lot less heart. This is my first Mimi centric fic so please let me know how I am doing. This is a three part fic, so if you want to get an ending, please review!

_Let Tonight Be Tonight_

"I am not going ballroom dancing! Let alone taking lessons with old creepy people who have been doing it for centuries!"

"Why not? What else do you have planned?"

"Things…"

"I didn't even give you an exact date, how the hell do you know you're busy?"

"Because I'll make sure I am."

"Please! Just for one week. Three classes take one week and after that you never have to do it again. For me baby? Please!" Mimi whined in frustration as Roger refused to entertain her request for even a moment.

"Why do you need classes for dancing? It's what you do for a living, I don't understand it. Why are you going to spend money on doing what makes you money?" Roger shook his head and heaved his guitar case over his shoulder. He looked around the loft distractedly and Mimi just knew she had lost his attention.

Once Roger's eyes met her own again, Mimi felt her stomach clench. He looked at her like a dismissive parent would their imaginative child, writing off her babblings in his own mind as nonsense. It was all there in his eyes, and Mimi could read him like a worn out novel.

When she first read the advertisement on the train, Mimi could barely contain her excitement. Her relationship with Roger had been slowly falling apart and she longed for something they could share together that was not a mattress.

Mimi recalled several occasions where Roger would ask her to come to a show because he wanted her involved. Even if she wanted no part in the matter, she would go in an instant each time. All he had to do was ask, and she would jump to his whim. She finally found something that she wanted to share with him and all he could do was shut her out.

As she stared into Roger's aloof green eyes, Mimi felt the pieces that remained of their bond shattering.

Roger would constantly disregard her like she was a juvenile rather than his lover. And she hated him for it more and more each day.

"Why do people spend money on going to school after college?" Mimi shouted exasperated, motioning with her hand for Roger to answer.

"Because…" Roger replied slowly, searching the loft with his eyes for clues.

"It's the same idea. The kind of dancing I do is way different from ballroom dancing. When I dance, I do it to turn my audience on, because the hotter they are, the fatter the tips they give," Mimi was cut off when Roger pointed at her accusingly.

"Don't get me started on that one!" Roger said in a harsh tone. Mimi watched as his eyes darkened, and she grinned evilly.

"What, Rog? You knew I was a stripper when you met me and my job hasn't changed in the," she looked up to the peeling ceiling of the loft and counted on her fingers, "What? Two years we've been together? It's a little late to be uptight about my choice of employment now." Mimi stated simply. Despite herself, she was slightly amused at his misplaced arrogance and she smiled.

"I guess." Roger said dejectedly and sighed. He smirked and Mimi had no doubt it was at his own foolishness.

The mood steadied itself in a matter of seconds and Mimi wished that she had some control over it. She could never stay mad at Roger for long, even when she wanted to. It made things harder on her mentally and emotionally, especially as she had been teetering on her breaking point in recent months.

"Ballroom dancing is nothing like what I do," Mimi sighed whimsically and closed her eyes, "ballroom dancing is artistic and, what's the damn word? Elegant? Anyway, it's an art form and it's cute for couples to do together."

"More like autistic, besides only old people dance like that," Roger quipped and Mark snickered from his place on the window sill.

Mark had been sitting in his usual content silence, or at least Mimi always thought he looked content when he was like that. He would sit in one spot for hours; the only sound to come from him was usually a small snort or a sound of comprehension.

Whenever Mimi would do her nails on the tattered couch, she would observe Mark as he read. She marveled at how focused he could be on the pages in front of him, how they seemed to hold switches to his emotions. One page his blue eyes would widen in surprise, and the next they would have that familiar twinkle that was usually accompanied by a smile.

Mimi found herself wondering how Mark could do it though. How could he be emotionally caught up in a book, when she could barely find the physical passion in her relationship with Roger? She wondered if she should start reading more.

"Sorry," Mark said weakly. His eyes shown through with laughter as he looked up at his friends. He put his head back down and resumed reading,

"Alright, Mark," Roger said, with a hint of finality in his voice. Mark's head shot up in surprise and he looked at Roger quizzically. "Who's right?"

A familiar jolt of irritation hit Mimi when she heard Roger ask Mark for his opinion. She could care less that he dragged poor nervous Mark into the situation, which was not the issue. It was how he asked him.

Roger's voice was so disgustingly presumptuous that Mimi had to stop herself from screaming. He would always sound like that when he thought he was winning, and Mimi had become disappointed that everything was a battle to win. To anyone else, it sounded like Roger was playfully bantering with his girlfriend and friend. But to Mimi's trained ear his voice held a hint of dominance that had become unattractive to her.

Mark's eyes darted between Mimi and Roger timidly, he seemed to be gauging what option was less likely to get him yelled at. Mimi was often surprised by how the most mature person in the loft was the one who acted the most like an insecure teen when he was put on the spot, she always felt it was one of Mark's more endearing qualities.

After a moment of internal debate, Mark seemed to regain his composure.

"Well," Mark began slowly, as he closed his book, "She's right, Rog."

Roger looked at his friend in shock and Mimi could not keep the smug smile off her face. She did not like how he made everything into a battle, but she loved when she won them.

"Traitor." Roger said as he adjusted his hold on his guitar case.

"I know, I know! But listen, ballroom dancing is on a completely different scale than other kinds of dancing. I know you don't want to try cause you think you'll look like a dork, but you might find it to be more of a challenge than you think. You never know." Mark shrugged and looked to Mimi with sympathy.

"I don't like dancing." Roger stated.

"I said, 'you never know.'" Mark replied, using air quotes when he repeated himself.

"I know I don't like dancing." Roger said as he narrowed his eyes playfully at Mark.

"You never do it so how do you know?" Mark asked, raising an eye brow in mock suspicion.

"I know I don't do it because I know I don't like it." Roger justified and stuck his tongue out at Mark.

"But how do you know unless,"

"I know you two need to stop this because it's too confusing and my head hurts!" Mimi ordered and both men closed their mouths promptly. A stare down commenced between all three of them, eyes flickering back and forth. Roger tried to muffle a laugh and failed, the sound in turn made Mimi and Mark laugh as well.

"See," Mimi motioned a hand over to Mark once the laughter had died down. "Thanks for the back up."

Mark nodded and looked back down into his book, vanishing into the drab scenery.

"Why, why are you pushing this now?" Roger asked as he picked up a small notebook and shoved it into his jean back pocket.

Mimi saw him reach for his amplifier and she quickly leaped over to it, straddling it and as a show of force batted his hand away each time he reached for the handle.

Mimi placed her hands on her hips and the exotic dancer widened her eyes. She pouted her full lips and stared up at Roger sweetly.

"You really don't know why I am asking today?" Mimi purred and ran a hand up Roger's leg. Roger shook his head and stood straight up, admiring her cuteness as she hinted and pouted her way to a point. "What's tomorrow, Rog?" Mimi questioned, her voice holding an edge that Mark typically verbalized as the sound of Roger's fate being sealed. Roger shrugged. "It comes once a year," she motioned her hand, rotating it in a circle. "Everyone has one…"

A look of complete confusion took over Roger's face and Mimi knew that their time was coming to an end as a couple. And she decided that it would be sooner rather than later.

"I got nothing." Roger shrugged and Mimi got up from his amplifier being sure to keep her face even and not let on to her disappointment. "Love you, babe. I'll be home after the set list." He gave Mimi a peck on the cheek and walked out the door.

Mimi snapped her head over to Mark, who was peering cautiously over the top of his book.

"Was I being a bitch?"

"No."

"Was I being too coy?"

"Hardly."

"Was I dropping all the right hints and he still couldn't piece two and two together?"

"Yep, that would be the ever romantic styling of Roger Davis." Mark sighed, closed his book, and let his head fall back against the window pane.

Mimi plodded rather sadly over to him and sat down a few feet away. She folded her legs under herself and started playing idly with a lock of her curly black hair. She looked defeated and broken, and at that moment she hated Roger for being able to put her in that state so effortlessly.

"Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to learn how to ballroom dance. Or at least be in that scenario, with the gowns and the music. I wanted to look like Cinderella and be a princess for a night, you know?" she asked, looking to Mark expectantly as she cocked her head to the side.

"Sort of, well, without the looking like a princess part. Besides, my legs are too scrawny to look any good in a gown," Mark's dead panned delivery was something that Mimi treasured. Anytime she would come to him and lay out her problems, he always had a comment that made some of the aggravation ease away.

Mimi's nose scrunched up as she laughed and Mark smirked knowingly. She enjoyed her talks with Mark for many reasons, but the main one was that he was different with her.

Mark was either a smart ass or completely detached in most situations. Unless he was with her, then he was silly and willing to talk about himself. It was a rare occurrence for other members of their inner circle to witness.

"I wanted someone to be taken a back by how pretty I was and, and I wanted that kiss at midnight, before I poofed away!" Mimi laughed at herself and Mark smiled warmly at her. "I know I sound crazy."

Mark shook his head, the familiar warm smile never fading. "Not at all! Maybe the part about 'poofing' away is a little odd, but every one has those kinds of dreams at some point."

"I guess," she shrugged her shoulders and looked down at her crossed legs.

"No seriously, I can prove it. When I was about ten, I started playing piano," Mimi's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Yes, I too can make music, not just Roger. Anyway, I would always have this image of playing in front of a huge hall of people."

Mark opened his arms wide and stood only to then squat down as if he was sitting on a bench. He began moving his hands in rhythm with each other, playing a piano that no one could see.

"I would play these real long compositions of mine in my living room, but in my head there were thousands of people watching me. And at the end, I would rise from my seat, and the final notes would echo through out the hall." Mark stood up straight and stuck his nose up in the air, feigning the look of an upper class gentleman. He followed the look by placing his hands behind his back, and taking a dramatic bow.

Mimi laughed loudly and Mark smiled at her, breaking his stuck up pose only for a moment. "And then what would your adoring fans do?" she snickered and closed her eyes, allowing her mind to see what Mark was describing.

"Well, then, a slow applause would begin before it erupted into a standing ovation. And roses and flowers would litter the stage. Carnations, love letters, words of praise, all of them would be tossed at me. Maybe even the occasional bra or two, what can I say, I was ten!"

The pair fell into a fit of giggles at that point. Mark sat back down and Mimi took deep breaths to steady her body.

"So like I said, Meemz, everyone has those kind of dreams."

"You're good at narrating, don't ever give it up." Mimi said, her voice finally even from the laughing stint they had.

Mark's cheeks tinted a light pink at the compliment and he nodded. "I try."

"You succeed, I was there with you just now…I could even feel the bras whizzing past my head! Good stuff, boy." They exchanged smiles and fell into a comfortable silence for a moment. "So, why did you stop playing and writing music?"

"Well, it was a combination of things. One being my dad…" Mark looked down and Mimi prepared herself for one of those glimpses of Mark that others rarely saw. "he had this whole idea that piano was a girl's instrument. Cindy played for hours at a time, and she was praised for it. But when I would play, my dad would bitch at me for not becoming an Eagle Scout like him."

"What an ass!" Mimi said, as her mouth hung open in surprise. "Here I was thinking you were the golden boy."

"Hardly!" Mark sighed, rolling his eyes. "I was always a fuck up to him, he ridiculed me so much that I just stopped playing when he was around. Which led to me playing less and less, until I didn't play at all." Mark shrugged and he looked to Mimi from the corner of his eye. He then stared at the coverless paper back he held in his hands, flipping it over to distract him.

"That's too bad," Mimi said. She could almost see the sharing side of Mark fading before her eyes. He looked lost as he bit his lip with worry in his eyes; Mimi thought it was because he hardly ever spoke about his past. "What about writing?" she inquired, adding a bubbly note to her voice to get him out of his nervous state.

"As far as writing, I haven't stopped, I just don't do it that much, and I usually tuck it away when I do write so no one ever sees it. It's never anything big. Just a melody or two."

"I'd like to hear you some day."

"Possibly. Don't tell anyone about it though, if Roger finds out, he'll hound me until he gets to play every last piece of it. And then he'll drama queen at me about how I never told him I played and make me feel like a shitty best friend for not telling him."

At the mention of Roger's name, Mimi's face lost some color and her bright eyes darkened. Mark's eyes widened in realization and Mimi cast her eyes downward. The last thing she wanted was her friend walking on egg shells, which she knew Mark would do in a second if it meant keeping someone else happy.

"Roger," Mimi sighed and began playing with her hands nervously. "I hope he was just playing dumb, and that he isn't really that forgetful. I mean, I don't expect everyone to know, but he is my boyfriend. I shouldn't have to hint around a million times to get him to acknowledge the one date he is obligated to remember –not the way someone who I'm supposed to be spending the last of my days with should act."

Mimi looked up just in time to see Mark's mood completely deflate. She tended not to mention the fact that she and Roger's days were numbered when she was around Mark. He would get a look in his eye that reminded Mimi of a kitten, wide eyed and frail.

"Maybe he isn't the one you should spend the rest of your days with then…" Mark said it slowly, his voice was a little louder than a whisper, but it was said. Mark slammed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. He let out a huff of air and turned to Mimi, a red tinge dominating his pale face.

Mimi and Mark's eyes met for a brief second before they both looked away. But in that second Mimi saw something in Mark's eyes. It was unlike any look he had given her before.

Mark was vulnerable and more importantly, he had done it by accident.

Mimi concentrated on the image in her head of Mark's face. He was surprised, which lead her to believe that in his boggled Mark mind he let something slip. But what did it mean to him? Was he mad at himself for telling her to leave his best friend? Or was there more to it than that?

Mimi had not wished to voice the obvious thought that lingered in the air, but was secretly glad that Mark had. It would not be an easy thing to dwell on, but she knew in her heart what she would have to do.

"I have to start living for myself."

Mimi heard a voice call out to her just as she was about to take a corner. After a long day of dancing, she hoped it was not one of her regular customers hoping to get more from her. She was thankful her boss gave her the early shift, knowing she could get help easily in day light if it was a pushy client.

Mimi squinted as she passed under a bright street light. She could see a shadow coming towards her with a guitar case on its back and her heart raced.

"Shit."

Mimi had been intending to completely avoid Roger until she sat him down tomorrow. She could not bear to deal with him on the one day that was hers and hers alone. She only wanted to go home and have a night to herself before she set out on her emotional roller coaster the next day.

A weight sunk into her stomach as Mimi put on her 'customer service' smile. The one she gave at the club as they slid bills into her thong. She felt cheap and dirty giving Roger the same smile she gave them. She felt sick knowing he would not notice a difference.

"Hey, you." Roger grinned, the rock star smile that once drove her crazy now made Mimi cringe inside.

"Hey," she smiled tightly, batting her eye lashes for added effect. "Let me guess, show at the Life?"

Roger nodded excitedly. "Yea, but I have to play the whole night. I guess someone rented the place for the night and they need some entertainment. Good pay though."

"That's great." Mimi said, waiting for Roger to say something else. Maybe even acknowledge the date.

"I got to get going though, don't wait up for me and be careful if you go out. Love ya!" Roger said and gave Mimi a quick kiss on the lips before he jogged off.

No passion. No heated gaze. Not even a hug.

"No candle…the fire is out," Mimi thought sadly as she walked home. Part of her wanted to cry, to mourn the loss of her relationship. But a bigger part of her understood what had happened.

Mimi felt like she had not been dating Roger for sometime emotionally. Physically it was there. They touched, held hands, even kissed. She even loved him, but she could feel in her heart she was not in love with him anymore.

Mimi was happy for Roger, he was playing music again, getting acoustic gigs that put some food on the table, but even more than that, he was happy. But the exchange was Mimi's sadness. She never saw him and hardly talked to him much beyond ten minutes at a time. She found it difficult to remember the last time they had cuddled let alone had sex.

Mimi knew that she did love him, but the deep needful love she once possessed just was not there anymore. She saw a peppy blonde flirt with him last week, popping gum and twirling her hair, but felt nothing. Mimi had tried to convince herself that she was aware that it came with having a rock star boyfriend, but she knew there was more to it than that.

Mimi was bored, and she needed more in her day than a couple kisses as they were heading out the door.

She promised herself that after today she would talk to him. Being blown off on this one day was the last straw for her. If she was to stay sane and happy, it had to be the last straw.

Mimi trudged up to the loft, hating the sound of her heavy heels on the stairs. She had been living with Roger and Mark for a few months now because, they realized supplies were shared between their homes anyway.

Mimi would buy food for her apartment, and end up cooking in the loft for the boys. Roger would make a few extra dollars, and patch up the leaky ceiling in the loft only to spend the night with Mimi. Mark would sell a handful of photos to an ad company and bring home hot chocolate which Mimi drank most of in the loft.

Over the course of time the three had decided that sharing a space would make the most financial sense.

Mimi dropped her duffel bag to the floor and pulled out her small key ring. It contained a key for the dressing room at work, a key to her old apartment, and a key to the loft. The frustrating part was, all the keys looked the same. On the third try, she got it right, gathered her things and stepped inside.

She shrugged out of her coat and let it drop to the floor; she made a personal vow to pick it up later, though she knew she wouldn't. This was her day to do whatever she wanted to.

And damned if she wanted to pick up her coat.

Mimi walked into the bathroom and found a white envelope attached to the mirror with her name written on it in cursive. She took it and tried to analyze the writing, it was unfamiliar. Her first initial thought was Roger, but she knew he couldn't write in cursive. Her second thought was Mark, but she had barely seen his writing and could not imagine why he would leave her something like this.

She opened the envelope and slipped out a note, which simply read:

_Under your mattress in the red box._

Mimi smiled at the mystery and cocked her head to the side. Again she stared at the writing, names came to mind but none of them stuck. She thought maybe it was Roger and he had someone else write the note, but that would be giving him too much credit. She decided to give up on the writing, and went into her room.

Mimi crouched down by the side of her bed and reached a hand under carefully. She pulled out a rather big red box, noticing it was on its side, she put it upright. The box was tall and wide, and had beautiful golden script on it. She read the title on the box, 'Fabricated Moments', and recognized it as a fancy clothing store from Time Square.

Mimi took off the lid to find another note underneath; it had an address and another small note:

_Give this address to the black cab that is waiting for you down the stairs._

_It's already paid for, get dressed, I'll see you soon._

Mimi felt her heart pounding in anticipation as she shoved away the tissue paper in the box. The first thing she saw was a pair of lilac colored high heeled shoes. She quickly slipped one onto her foot and was amazed to feel how perfect it fit her.

She held the other shoe up close to her face and admired the satin fabric that covered it. Her fingers traced the buckle and then the heel. The heel of the shoe was only about an inch, not nearly as dramatic as the ones she was used to wearing on stage.

Slipping the one shoe off and placing them both to the side, she dug her eager hands through more tissue paper. Her fingertips felt fabric and her heart skipped a beat. Grasping the cloth in her hand, she slowly rose to her feet.

Mimi pulled out a long flowing satin lilac dress that matched the shoes perfectly. Holding it up to her slender frame with shaky hands and shivered at the feel of the cool fabric against her heated flesh.

Mimi's fingertips examined the strapless gown carefully. She held it out in front of her and stared in awe at the diamond shaped opening in the middle of the dress. The opening would start between her breasts and dip all the way down to reveal her navel, before it closed itself off again. The lower half of the satin gown came up to her knees in the front and trailed down to the floor in the back.

"Whoever you are, you've gone through a lot of trouble," she said to herself.

The cab ride seemed to go on forever, and Mimi had no idea where she was, or where her destination was. She bit her lip and tried to steady her heart beat at every turn the cab took.

The cab was not a traditional cab, nor was the driver a loud skuzzy New Yorker. It was an all black Cadillac, with leather interior, and the driver was a man in his early forties dressed in a suit in tie.

"I have a question for you." Mimi said, breaking the silence in the quiet car.

"Yes, ma'am?" he responded, making eye contact with her through the rearview mirror.

"Do you know the name of who set this up? Or where exactly I'm going?"

The driver smiled and winked. "I know the answer to both those questions, but I'm under strict orders to not say a word."

Mimi worried her lip for a moment before speaking again. "What if I ask you questions and you don't tell me his name? Compromise?"

The driver smiled and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, "He told me you would try this, and he said I could answer a few things, but only enough to get you thinking."

Mimi flashed a bright smile and nodded. "Alright, umm… How much are your services costing him?"

The driver shook his head, "Not a dime, I owed this guy a favor. He helped set me up with this job so it was the least I could do for him."

"Hmm, okay that didn't help much. I'm guessing if I gave you a name even if I was right you couldn't tell me, huh?"

"Clever girl. I can't tell you anything that may give his identity away. Only bits and pieces of stuff if you ask the right questions."

Mimi had a rather difficult time coming up with questions to ask that were not too personal, so she shot in the dark. "What did he tell you about me?"

The driver looked at her and smiled softly, then turned his eyes back to the bustling streets of New York.

"He speaks very highly of you. He thinks you're talented, beautiful, charming, and smart. Basically he thinks the world of you. He didn't say this to me at any point outright, but by the way he talks about you, I'd say he's in love with you."

Mimi's dark skin did little to hide her blush. She stared, detached, at the parked cars as they drove past them.

On the one hand, if it was Roger she would have to rethink some of the things she had promised herself she would do in the morning. On the other hand, if it was anyone else, her life was about to get become severely more complicated, or possibly even happier.

"Miss?" The driver's voice snapped Mimi out of her musings. He handed her an envelope and placed his hand back on the wheel.

She swallowed hard and slid out what appeared to be a letter, her eyes darted to the bottom of the letter first hoping to find a name. Instead she saw it read: _I'm waiting for you… _With a deep breath she began to read.

_Dear Mimi,_

_I know the fact that you probably still have no idea who I am is driving you crazy. And I am sad to tell you, I am probably not who you are expecting or wish me to be. I hope that doesn't lessen the fun of this for you. _

_I want you to know that in the time I have known you I have been admiring you from a far, not at all in a creepy way, I swear! I've seen your heart and it pains me to see when it's breaking. I am not trying to swoop in on you because you are vulnerable, and I am by no means asking for anything to come of this. My only desire is that you let tonight be tonight, and if you choose to talk about it tomorrow, then that is a choice all your own. I am taking a great risk in doing this; everything could change for me regardless of what you choose to do after this ends. But I am willing to face the music in light of my actions. _

_When you enter, there will be a lot of people, some of which you may know, Max, the driver, will escort you inside. I will answer every question you ask of me once we meet, only after I ask you some of my own. _

_Get ready for your ball, princess. I'm waiting for you…_

Mimi looked up to find the cab had come to a stop in front of a large brick building. The driver got out and walked around to Mimi's door and opened it. She took his offered hand and stepped in awe onto the side walk.

"Wow…" Mimi murmured, gathering the train of her dress as she stepped out of the vehicle.

"That's what I said."

The two nodded as Max, the cab driver, led Mimi inside the large rosewood arched doors.

To Be Continued...

a/n: There are two more chapters in this story. They are all ready written and ready to post. However, you guys need to tell me your reading. Please review! Whether it's a scene you liked, or a snippet of dialogue please tell me.


	2. Chapter 2

To say there were a lot of people inside would be a gross understatement, Mimi thought

To say there were a lot of people inside would be a gross understatement, Mimi thought. She focused on the hundred dancing couples and gasped at the fact that there was still room to spare.

The tall archway they entered through was decorated by a bundle of crimson velvet fabric. The fabric twirled around itself several times and sagged in the middle, leaving the excess to wave outside the archways frame. A quick glance around the space let Mimi see that all the doorways had arches smaller than the one they had walked through, and that they shared the lush crimson velvet adornment.

The walls were painted a dark red that contained speckles of golden glitter in the paint. The sight reminded Mimi of a newly placed sidewalk on a bright summer day. The same inexplicable twinkling would catch your eye when the light touched the walls right. Mimi hated that even in a classy place like the hall; the only comparisons she could make were to the streets.

The thought caused Mimi to wonder about who had brought her there in the first place. Was he rich? Did he own the place? Or was he from a tough neighborhood like her? Was he poor?

Mimi decided that no answer mattered at that point. Though she wanted to know who it was, she was having fun getting caught up in suspense of it all. She took a steadying breath and watched the band for a moment when Max let her stop their slow paced walk to see everything.

In the far right hand corner of the hall was a small stage with a few steps made of black marble leading up to it. A white grand piano sat in the middle as the small band, comprised mostly of violins and cellos began finishing up their song. There was a female saxophone player and Mimi nodded in approval as the woman lost herself in a solo. The song sounded like jazz to Mimi's ears, upbeat but soothing. She was surprised when the band stopped playing abruptly, earning a curious murmur from the crowd.

The saxophone player looked over to the piano and smiled, leaning down and placing a hand on what Mimi assumed to be a pianist shoulder. She was unable to see for sure as the piano's cover blocked out her view. The woman's smile seemed to be sympathetic and encouraging as she walked off the stage with her band mates to a round of applause.

The music switched into the white grand piano playing a slow jazz piece that made her want to sway. She stared hard at the piano, but could not see the musician behind its raised cover. The only thing Mimi could make out was that the pianist, who had white pant's and black shined shoes, was making use of the pedals she always thought pointless.

Mimi felt like she could hear the heart of the music beating within her chest. Her body ached to let loose and twirl about to the tones as they rose and fell with such strong emotion and energy.

Max placed a hand on the small of Mimi's back, and nudged her gently to move along. Reality began to sink in as Max walked her past the couples dancing. The gowns and dresses were all elaborate and full of color from all sides of the spectrum. Trains of dresses trailed behind their wearers as they spun about the black and white marble dance floor.

The dresses varied in styles, but almost all of them had trains on them. With each twirl a woman took, the back of her dress would trail behind her like a kite falling as the wind died down.

Mimi watched one woman dance in a dark blue dress for a moment and admired the mastery she had on the floor. The woman's gaze was transfixed with her partners own and she looked so at peace. The sleeves of the dress were long and flowing, the satin fabric made the dress shimmer under the lights. Every time she spun the sleeve would get caught in the air and hover for a brief instant, before gravity sent it tumbling back down.

Mimi raised her eyes to the lavish high ceiling to see the three grand chandeliers that seemed to make the room sparkle. The fixtures were a shining gold with tiny sparkling white prisms dangling. Small rainbows flickered on the dancers, and gave everything a magical glow.

Mimi took her eyes away from the prisms and scanned the expansive hall for her prince charming. She bit her lip and squinted at the men around her, a sea of black tuxes mingling together amongst the vibrantly dressed women.

Mimi dimly noted that she was the only one wearing lilac and she quickly decided that it, like everything else, was orchestrated. The men were all in tuxes with cufflinks and shined shoes. The music did not fit what she remembered from the movies, but the moves were the same. Mimi thought back to Cinderella and laughed disbelievingly.

Mimi counted the steps in her head as her eyes focused on another dancing couple. The woman's dress was more of a traditional gown. It had the puffy short sleeves, corset top, and the classic princess design where the dress falls to the floor with layers and layers of fabric making the dress look regal.

Mimi's mouth dropped open as she finally put a name to the dance that was being done.

"1,2,3,1,2,3," Mimi whispered to herself as she counted their steps.

Ballroom dancing.

Mimi realized that she was in the middle of a ballroom dance and though the music being played was unconventional to the scene it was heart warming all the same.

The sounds drifting from the piano were thought provoking and magical. She could feel the piano's tears when the notes sank to the lower register and she could feel herself smile as even then, higher notes were scattered into the piece.

The pianist slammed down hard on the keys as the slow part of the song came to a halt. As one, majority of the couples held each other close and began dancing together. There was no particular form to their dance at that point, they were just moving as one. It looked beautiful to Mimi's captivated eyes.

The music picked up again suddenly, harsh chords being cut off before they had a chance to ring out. It was aggressive and fierce and Mimi wished she was alone so she could dance to it. It created a feeling of passion within her, the bass notes oozing sexuality and lust. And then it switched, combining the bass rhythm, coarse and beating with a bright innocent melody.

A beautiful portrait of fairies fluttering in the darkness filled her mind as she listened to the melody of the song. Part of her wanted to laugh at the childish imagery, but in the end she chose to bask in the moment. She imagined the fairies being tempted by passion, trying to hold onto their goodness and values as darkness over took them. The more vibrant notes began to get louder and louder until the dark bass was in the background.

The deep notes hovered and tempted, teased and clawed at Mimi's ears. She wanted more of the sinister sounds in her dream world. She could see it in her mind. See the faeries as they became vixens, as they realized how rare passion was, and how much they needed it.

The melody grew louder and the rhythm grew softer, until they were finally equal. Her faeries had their passion and their goodness now. In her mind, they had grown to be content with their realm as they calmly darted in and out of the darkness and their own world of light.

Mimi connected with the song on far deeper level than she could have imagined. It felt like it was created for her, like the song knew where her heart and body were in life. It comforted her to know that whoever wrote it, felt the same way she did. Trapped between right and wrong, flirting with both sides until it drives you mad.

Max led Mimi into an empty hallway just as the song came to an end.

"Now, this is my time to shine," Max said, and Mimi smiled curiously at him.

Max reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

"He gave me this list of questions to ask you, they are all directly from him, so answer as if you are answering him."

Mimi nodded and heard faintly in the background as the piano was replaced by a string quartet. The music sounded more appropriate for the situation, but she already longed for the piano piece from before.

"Okay, I'm ready."

"What did you think of the music playing as you walked in?"

Mimi closed her eyes and tried to imagine her mystery suitor before her. "I think it was some of the most beautiful story telling I have ever heard. It made me want to dance, cry, scream. It was crazy just how, I don't know, how intense it was. I guess you could say I loved it." Mimi finished, trying to play off her excitement.

"In your heart you know who I'm not. Do you still want to know who I am, even though it may complicate things?"

"Yes." Mimi was surprised about her lack of hesitation. "I need to know the man who cared enough to do all of this for me. I need to thank him, and I don't care how complicated things may become, I just…I need to look you in the eyes, because a part of me has fallen for who ever you are over the course of a few hours and I know that may be really naive to say, but anyone who would do this much, deserves to be acknowledged."

Mimi heard footsteps from behind her, a sound that echoed against the high ceiling and sparkling black floors of the hall. A small breeze ghosted across her skin as hands tentatively rested on her shoulder. She jumped despite herself and made a noise of protest when the cool hands moved away in response.

"No," Mimi said hurriedly, "I wasn't expecting it. It's okay."

Mimi stood in comfortable silence as the stranger once again laid slender hands on her exposed upper arms, fingers wrapped around the lightly.

The hold was not commanding or overbearing, but rather cautious. It was just enough to keep Mimi from turning, with out making her feel boxed in.

Like Roger, Mimi thought to herself. When he would hold her, she always felt compelled to stay in the hug or position until he ended it. Not because she wanted to stay, but because he needed her to be in his grasp. Roger wanted to make sure she would not slip away again. They barely touched anymore and there were times when she longed for his misplaced affection. At least when he did hold her like that, she knew he still cared.

Soft finger tips caressed up and down Mimi's arms and a wave of reassurance accompanied the delicate movement. The hands were not abrasive like Roger's, they did not scratch against her tender skin, and instead they complimented it.

Mimi smiled to herself, excited to see if the owner of the hands would compliment her as well.

The man behind her had a presence that exuded both security and insecurity. The delicate and adoring touches made Mimi's heart race and her head spin. But it was between the strokes and caresses that Mimi found the most interest.

Each time her suitor took his hands away they would hover above her form, waiting for the answer to an unspoken question. Mimi deduced he wanted permission from her, that he did not want to push her too far.

Mimi could feel his insecurity in the air and she could not help but make a small noise in her throat. The noise was followed by a hand that trembled, before it gained confidence and kneaded at her skin.

She could not explain how the man's hands, as they slid up and down her arms, made her feel. Mimi did know that though the contact was minimal and innocent, she had never been more in tune with her body than she was there with the stranger.

Not even Roger's needy grabs in the dark had brought forth this much intrigue and desire in her.

Mimi hated herself for it, but if the faceless stranger groped or teased her, she would play into his every move.

But why? She wondered if it was the adrenaline rushing through her body, the excitement that comes with mystery. Or was it more? Could there be something in the universe between them? A connection that was unseen to everyone including herself?

Mimi did indeed feel a bond with the man who was sweeping her off her feet. She trembled, eager to see who her prince charming was. She knew it was not Roger and she felt a wave of relief at that. What would she have done if she almost completely wrote him off, only to find out he was working on surprising her. She thought about Benny for a fleeting instant, that would at least explain the hall and the dress, but the tender caresses she was receiving were not a Benny trait.

As much as Mimi tossed names and faces around in her head, she couldn't settle on one person that would do something so creative and probably expensive for her. She was brought out of her mind game by Max's voice.

"I know it's hard, but keep your eyes closed, okay?" Mimi nodded at the sound of Max's voice as she melted back into the hands of this stranger. One hand squeezed her shoulder as the other fell to her hip. Mimi swallowed audibly and nodded again with enthusiasm.

Upon feeling his hand on her hip, Mimi let the tension of her body slip away. She began swaying with the man behind her, and lightly pushed herself against his chest. She took the hand he had on her hip and intertwined her fingers with his own, letting their hands stay at her side. Mimi then moved the hand so it rested over her stomach. They danced like that as Max plowed on with the last of the questions.

"If I was someone close to you, would you turn me away?" Max asked.

"No."

"Why?" The voice was soft against her ear and she jumped at the sound of her admirer's whispered tone. By the way the body against her became rigid, Mimi was sure he had not meant to say it. She had not been alert enough to figure out whose voice it was, so she continued swaying as her pulse raced.

"Because I…I don't know. I know how this feels and I know that who you are can't change that. And if we already know each other, which we gotta, I don't think I could walk away from you after you've done all this for me."

"Last question and then I'll turn it over to him," Max stated, smiling as Mimi danced with his friend. Both had their eyes closed and wore identical, content, smiles. "I'm sorry for breaking the mood by asking this, but, if I was close with Roger, would you walk away from me?"

Mimi swallowed hard as she thought about this. Her dance partner dropped a small kiss on her exposed shoulder and she found herself falling to pieces under his touch.

"I can't live for Roger anymore. I don't have enough time left on this earth to wait for him to notice who I am. In the past few hours you have put more effort into getting me here tonight then he's put in all our dates combined. I've smiled more tonight than I have in a month. If he ever loved me as much as he claimed, then he'll have to love me enough to let me be happy, even if it means being away from him…"

The man holding her let out a long breath and Mimi giggled as the warm air tickled the hair on her neck. The hand on her shoulder disappeared for a moment then returned in front of her face.

"Open your eyes, Meemz," he said and recognition washed over Mimi's body. Her eyes opened to see a pale hand holding a long stemmed red rose. She took the rose from his hand and spun around, clutching the stem to her chest. "Happy Birthday," he said, a nervous smile on his lips as his hands fell to his sides.

Wide brown eyes stared in shock at timid blue ones.

"Mark?" Mimi said, blinking away the disbelief.

Mark nodded slowly and a tight smile formed across his face. He looked to the ground and took a deep breath through his nose, before exhaling it.

"Before you say anything, before you accuse me of trying to steal you from Roger, or even consider this as an attempt for you to sleep with me, hear me out." Mimi nodded dumbly as she tried to process what was happening.

Mark shifted from foot to foot, looking awkward and insecure. "I knew it was your birthday months ago, and I was already planning on getting you something. But when Roger completely brushed you off last night, I was so pissed at him," he said, using a hand to accentuate his point by snapping it open.

Mimi stared at the familiar pale face, still in shock. How many times had they sat less than an inch apart, laughed, and shared private thoughts? Mimi asked herself and wondered if the film maker was that skilled at hiding his emotions. She wondered how long he had felt something for her, how long she had neglected to see it.

Mark carried on and Mimi could see the scared determination in his pale blue eyes. "I was pissed that he was about to screw up this amazing thing that I would kill for, and to watch him take you for granted like that triggered something in me. Long before he met you, or we even knew your name, I knew your face and I thought it was breathtaking. I told you, I'm not expecting anything more than tonight."

Mimi nodded as she tried to find the words to soothe him like he had done for her many times before. But what's a girl to say as her rock is breaking? Mimi thought as Mark continued to explain himself down to nothing.

Mark grabbed at the back of his neck and took a deep breath, doing his best to keep his eyes locked with hers. "If tomorrow comes and you decide you want to forgive Roger and patch things up with him, I'll back off and tonight will never be mentioned. And even if you tell him and I have to move out and never speak to either of you again, I'll, I'll, deal with it. Let tonight be tonight, Mimi. Just for tonight, let me give you the birthday you deserve."

Mimi stood in front of her friend and stared at him, so many emotions lit up his face as he spoke, and not one of them was insincere.

Mark's free hand twitched nervously, before he grabbed at the back of his neck and interlocked it with his other one, stilling them for a moment.

Mimi took a cautious step towards him and smiled, giving what she hoped was a calming gaze. She placed a hand on his cheek and brought his face close to hers. Mimi leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and Mark blushed furiously as a result.

"Mark. For tonight, treat me like I'm yours?" Mimi did not plan her response as much as she felt it. She could not deny the invisible connection she felt with Mark before she knew it was him anymore than she could deny her excitement that it was her trusted and loyal friend.

Mimi never would have predicted it to be Mark that was harboring such deep feelings for her, but at the same time it did not truly surprise her. When Mark revealed himself to her, all she could do was smile with excitement and relief. Mimi had half feared that it would be Benny or Roger, and that she would have to break someone's heart.

Mark pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and took her hand. He held it above her head and motioned for her to twirl. She did so with laughter and placed the rose between her teeth, practiced dancer's feet letting her twirl freely with ease. She made a show of curtsying before him and he bowed to her in return.

"You look…gorgeous, amazing even." Mark said as her twirling came to a halt.

Mimi bit her lip as she looked Mark over for the first time, taking everything in. His blonde hair was spiked with gel, a usual look for him, but not at all unwelcome. His tuxedo was completely white including a white bow tie. The color only helped to accentuate his already blue eyes as well as every blush he let rush to his face. He was handsome and charming and Mimi found it hard to believe she had never let herself see him in this light before.

If she let her mind wander, Mimi knew she had allowed herself to look at Mark in a more than friendly manner on a handful of occasions. But those thoughts had always been fleeting and never lasted more than a moment.

Now as he stood in front of her, dressed to kill with a smile that enchanted her, Mimi could not imagine walking away from him.

"Now, Mr. Cohen, I do believe you have some explaining to do…" Mimi chided as he took her arm and led her into the middle of the dance floor. They continued to smile at each other and Mark beamed every time Mimi flipped her hair in embarrassment. "Wait, I can't exactly dance like everyone here, that's why I wanted to learn how," Mimi began babbling nervously.

"Hush," Mark said, tapping a finger gently against the tip of her nose. "This is your first lesson. Follow me."

Mark began leading Mimi around the floor, their hands raised and locked together. Mark's free hand fit firmly in the small of Mimi's back and he waited patiently for her to match his steps.

As Mark expected, the wavy haired woman needed no formal introduction to the dance. After a few stumbles and playful jibes, the two were gliding and spinning amongst the other couples on the floor.

"So, tell me. How the hell much has this cost you?" Mark smiled at Mimi's forwardness. One of the many things he had claimed he admired her for was her ability to cut right to the point.

"Actually, I had a few favors owed to me and when push came to shove, they pulled through." Mark shrugged, down playing the situation to a level that made Mimi laugh.

"There is no way you were able to pull all this off with out it costing at least something. What about the dress and shoes?"

"Marianne Meyers, she runs a high class dress shop in Times Square. Well, we went to high school together so when she had needed some stock photo's for ads and commercials spots, I did it free of charge. I asked her if she could give me a discount and she gave me the dress and shoes for no charge."

"But her dresses cost thousands of dollars!"

"I took a lot of pictures, and she respected my cause…" Mark said and cast his eyes downward.

Mimi sensed that Mark indeed took a lot of pictures and that he did not intend to elaborate, Mimi let it go and moved onto her next inquiry. "Alright, Max?"

"Is a guy I met while working for Buzzline. They laid him off because he wanted to report real news as opposed to, well, what Buzzline does. We stretched the truth a little bit and I was his 'managerial' reference for the limo company he now works for. And before you ask, Joanne helped me get the crowd together here; a lot of them are people she works with at her firm, clients and such. And the hall belongs to Benny. I told him what I was planning and he signed the place over to me for the night."

Mimi nodded and placed her head on Mark's shoulder, giving up the ballroom dance as the song faded. Mimi buried her face in between Mark's neck and jacket. The jacket was made of cotton and his neck had some slight stubble that scraped softly at her face. It didn't take long for Mimi to decide that it was a pleasant feeling.

She had never even imagined someone putting this much effort into anything for her let alone that someone being Mark.

Mimi wrapped her arms around Mark's neck and let her eyes drift closed as his arms enveloped her waist. There was something so innocent about his touch, something she had not felt in a long time. She felt terrible for thinking it, but she knew not even Roger had made her feel as adored as Mark did. She blushed as she wondered if Mark would kiss her the same way he touched her.

"Why did you do all this, Mark? Not that I'm not grateful, but I hardly feel like I'm worth it."

Mark let out a long sigh, and began running a hand through her hair, massaging her scalp idly as he spoke. Mimi slipped a hand down from his neck and purposefully let her fingers drag over his Adam's apple. She grinned into the soft cotton of his tuxedo when she heard his breath hitch.

"When we were talking last night, about dreams and all that. You were so excited at the idea of being a princess for a night…" Mark trailed, clearing his throat when Mimi placed her teasing hand under the coat of his tuxedo. She rested it on his hip and smirked, she enjoyed breaking Mark's train of thought.

"And?" she prompted coolly. Mimi had become an expert at driving information out of Mark, and now she was able to use the physical tactics that had been off limits previously.

"And even though it is a bit under handed on my part. I wanted to treat you like one. I love Roger, but I don't think he can make you happy anymore. I think you've grown up to the point where gropes in the dark between shifts isn't enough for you anymore." Mark finished and placed a kiss on Mimi's forehead, his lips lingered for a spell.

"Does he know about all this?" Mimi asked and stared up into his eyes questioningly.

"He knows I've cared for you as more than a friend for sometime. I mean, we do talk. But that doesn't,"

"What did he say about me, Mark? You're such a shitty liar, Chico!" Mimi taunted and batted Mark on the chest.

Mark sighed, a heart warming smirk replacing the previous panic on his face. "And he has mentioned that he can't be what you need anymore. I'm gonna stop there because it's not my story to tell, but-"

"No, I'm glad you said what you did, Mark. I already made up my mind this morning that I was going to break up with him. I'll always love him, but I haven't been in love with him for a while now. I mean, he forgot my birthday! That doesn't exactly send warm fuzzies through me."

"Talk to him… he does know that I was going to take you out tonight. I never said it was a date, or anything. So you can still walk away from me and go home to him," Mark sounded so defeated and Mimi had an overwhelming urge to hold him.

She lifted her head and placed her forehead against his, staring into his eyes. Mimi saw how willing he was to sacrifice himself for her happiness. There she was, at a ball, in a hand made gown, with prince charming preemptively nailing himself to a cross.

"I'm still here, Mark. Stop telling me what my options are. I'm not questioning your intentions. I know you don't plan on using me, and I know you aren't trying to hurt anyone. Let tonight be tonight. And when morning comes, I'll make my choice, okay?"

Mark nodded and no words were spoken as the pair danced to various songs and rhythms. Their bodies got significantly closer with every note, until they were caught up in a tango. Mimi's leg was hiked up high on Mark's hip and he instinctively squeezed the outside of her thigh, never breaking eye contact.

Filmmaker Mark was cautious and nervous. Mark tipsy after a few beers was a quick-witted loveable asshole. But the Mark that she was now meeting, dancer Mark, he was different for anything she had ever seen in her friend.

Mark was confident and daring as he danced with Mimi. Never missing a beat, never taking a step that he did not follow through with. Mark dipped Mimi back in his arms and he bent down with her, their faces centimeters apart.

Mimi's breath caught as she saw the hunger in Mark's darkening blue eyes. She licked her lips as his searching gaze bore into her.

A sheen of sweat shined on Mark's skin under the golden lighting of the chandelier and Mimi's mind was clouded with mischievous thoughts.

Mimi stepped to Mark's side and raised their hands above her head. She teasingly ran her foot up the inside of Mark's leg and winked playfully at him when he blushed. Her foot rose as high as his thigh before Mark grabbed her tightly around the waist. Mimi yelped and giggled in surprise when Mark scooped her up into his arms and spun, she had no idea his lean frame possessed enough strength to make the motion as smooth as he had.

Mark winked at Mimi as he set her back onto the dance floor. He kept the dance going by pulling her close before he dipped her slowly, one arm wrapped securely around her waist. Mark's face was within inches of Mimi's body as she was lowered in the crook of his elbow. But even as she felt his breath against her chest, Mark kept eye contact with her. Even as his free hand glided over her dress, tracing the contours of her side, Mark was a gentleman.

A sinister smile played on Mimi's lips as she thrust her body back up against Mark's, hardly masking her attraction towards him. She bit her lip and felt a purr emerge from her throat when she slid her knee up his inner thigh. To his credit, Mark never faltered in movement, though she could see the war waging in his eyes.

Mark matched every move she made and even as the sensuality of the tango took over him, he never once acted like anything other than the gentleman Mimi had always thought him to be..

Mimi enjoyed every moment spent with her companion as she flaunted her lilac gown to the world. Her smile broadened every time Mark's arm snapped out and she rolled herself back into his waiting hands. And Mark's eyes would gleam when Mimi would bring her nose to his only to push herself back and giggle at him

A grandfather clock chimed loudly, breaking the spell of the tango for the few dozen couples who were still young enough to dance it. Mimi motioned across the dance floor to where Maureen and Joanne were sharing a drink. Mark smiled to them and then winked at Mimi.

"Nice moves, white boy," Mimi cooed and Mark rolled his eyes and smiled.

"Yeah, years of practice."

"Like that piano bit you played when I came in? That was you wasn't it?"

Mark looked down and held his hands in the air in mock surrender. "Guilty. That wasn't years though. I wrote it, well I started it awhile ago, and I finished it last night when you went to bed."

"You wrote that?" Mimi squealed in delight, "Mark that was beautiful! I mean it. That was really, really, amazing. I thought it was you playing, but I had no idea you like, made it."

"Just…don't tell anyone about it okay? I swear, anytime we are near a piano in the future, I'll play it for you. But don't tell anyone alright?"

"Why don't you want anyone to know you play?" Mimi asked curiously.

"I kind of like to keep it private, something that's just for me. I don't want to explain anything, I just want keep it for myself…and you, if you want." Mark sighed, and Mimi saw that patented shyness returning.

Mimi nodded and as the final bell rang out for midnight; her curious eyes met Mark's concerned ones.

Mimi thought back on her day and felt it could not have been more eventful.

In the morning she decided to leave her boyfriend, the man she once thought she would spend the rest of her life with. Time was not on her side and she knew it all too well. Every time she fell asleep she was reminded that she may wake up in a hospital the next morning, or worse, not wake up at all.

And where would Roger be if that happened? Mimi decided that he would probably be sitting next to her writing, completely oblivious to her stillness. Or that he would be playing his guitar too loud to hear her gasps for air and cried for help. She felt her stomach flip with remorse for her relationship, but reminded herself that she had her own life to live and living in the past would only make her sick.

In the afternoon, she officially became a year older and survived another year of her life with HIV. The thought of death loomed over her head each day, but she never let it weigh her down. Mimi felt like that was the biggest difference between her and Roger. He would put things off, assuming he would have tomorrow to accomplish them. But Mimi would follow her heart, never waiting to complete a task, no matter how irritating it may be. She looked to the future unlike Roger who counted on it.

Mimi was no fool. She had almost ruined her life more than once and knew that life owed her no favors. But she had promised herself that she would grab a hold of the chances life handed to her. Mimi chewed her lip and wondered if this was one of those chances, standing before her in a strawberry blonde, five foot seven inch tall package.

In the evening, she was swept off her feet by one of her closest friends. Yes, Mark was Roger's best friend, and she still was technically dating him, at least until she got home. But the more Mimi tried to feel bad about it, the more she found she couldn't. Who knew what she wanted in a relationship better than the person she always expressed it to? Mark was there when she would cry about Roger and their latest fights. And it was Mark that would give sound, thoughtful, advice after mulling the options over with her.

For all the chances she gave Roger she had to admit that many of them were a result of the advice Mark had given her. Mimi wondered just how long Mark had been pushing her towards Roger despite his feelings for her.

And in the twilight, as the final gongs of midnight resounded in her ears, Mimi found compassion and adoration in an unlikely place. She thought back on the unexplainable connection she felt when Mark was still a hidden figure. Even though she had no idea who it was, somehow she knew she was safe.

Mimi thought the way she felt safe physically with Mark was similar to the way he felt safe mentally with her. She let him hold her as a stranger much like he shared his emotions and past with her, free and unguarded.

"What's up?" Mark asked innocently as he leaned in and placed a hand on shoulder. Mimi felt her heart beat faster as his penetrating blue eyes seemed to search her soul for answers.

Mimi was normally rash and impulsive. If she wanted something bad enough she would take it, no questions asked. Unless of course, there was someone she cared about in the balance.

Mimi recalled her feeling towards the song Mark had played earlier in the night. She remembered feeling comforted by the fact that the writer of it must have felt the same emotional confusion she did. Trapped in a world you could not relate to, searching for completion.

Mimi trembled as she thought about Mark's presence again. How when he was still a mystery to her, how she felt an undeniable connection to him. She kept thinking about it because she could not explain it to herself. There was nothing about his actions then that gave away his identity. Out of the few names she tossed around in her head, his name was never one of them. But when he finally touched her, that feeling of connection increased ten fold. And when she finally registered that it was Mark, she was not only shocked but relieved.

But why relieved? Mimi thought Mark being her suitor would make her life more complicated. Yet she could feel things aligning, her thoughts and emotions falling into place like obedient soldiers.

Is Mark the completion I have been waiting for? Mimi questioned as she saw the readiness in Mark's eyes, how eager he was to cater to her needs.

"Don't I get my kiss at midnight? That's what a princess is supposed to get, right?" Mimi asked, her voice wavered from the revelation she had made.

Mark's tongue wet his lips and he rubbed his hands up and down Mimi's arms cautiously. Mark's eyes told Mimi that he was unwilling to ruin their friendship or give her anything to regret about the night.

"Only if it's what the princess wants…" he said calmly, staring at her lips as he dipped his head down. The kiss was nothing special as far as kisses go, it didn't feel like passion and fire. And it did not feel forbidden or dangerous.

The kiss was sweet and chaste, and even when Mimi tried to deepen it, when her tongue prodded at Mark's lips, the kiss remained simple. Despite the kiss' overall simplicity, Mimi could not help but find herself on the verge of begging for more.

Mimi had been kissed with fire, and she was no stranger to heated grabs during rushed goodbyes. Mimi felt more than a rush of passion, more than the rush that accompanies danger. Mark's kiss held sweet admiration and affection for her. Mimi thought she was going mad because she could feel all of it from a touch of lips.

Mark let his teeth briefly grasp Mimi's bottom lip, before he gave her another gentle peck. A small moan rushed into Mark's ear as he pulled her in close for a hug, his body shaking in what Mimi thought to be pent up desire. Mimi pulled on the lapels of Mark's white jacket softly, and stomped a heel in playful frustration.

Mimi pulled back from his warm embrace rather worriedly. She cocked her head to the side and ran a well manicured hand through his hair. Mimi was surprised to find that the hair was soft and not at all as pointed as it's appearance had lead her to believe.

Mark cupped Mimi's chin in his hand and leaned forward once again. Mimi's eyes fluttered to a close as she waited for his kiss to return; only this time there wasn't any. Rather than the tongue duel of the millennium that had begun to play out in Mimi's mind, a delicate kiss was placed on her forehead.

Mark placed his hands on Mimi's shoulders and she found herself marveling at the severe contrast in skin tones.

"Mimi, I'm not ready to put a title on it, but you know I feel something strong for you."

Mimi nodded and swallowed, her heart raced as she waited for him to cut the wind from her sails. She imagined Mark declaring it midnight and time for everything to poof away, leaving her to wake up and contradict every sane conclusion she had drawn during the evening.

Mimi stared at him with a pained look on her unblemished face. The look was hurt and confused, with a touch of insecurity. Mimi questioned the desire she had seen in Mark's eyes, felt in his touch. Had she just assumed it was there, was she as arrogant as Roger? The man she cared so little for as she danced and laughed with his roommate?

Mimi thought that Mark may have decided to take the night back as he came to terms with the possibility of losing Roger as a friend. She wanted to feel guilty for wanting more of Mark's touch, but she found the emotion was still not there. Mimi felt that she had long since severed the emotional connection she shared with Roger due to his absence in her life.

Mark bent his knee slightly so he could look into Mimi's down cast eyes. Mimi straightened and listened as Mark explained himself, eyes darting between her own to the floor. "What I'm saying is, as much as I want to kiss you, like really kiss you. With fireworks and slow motion and all the things that I think little princesses dream of," Mark waved his hands about and his eyes held relief as Mimi smiled. "I don't want it to be something that you feel weird about in the morning. I don't want it to be a good idea right now and a dirty secret later. When we or_ if_ we ever share a real kiss, I want it to be for the right reason."

Mimi felt herself falling for him in that moment and all the pieces of her life slowly connected on the table of her mind. Mark was compassionate to a fault, and the fact that he tried to think from a princess perspective made him even more charming. He was smart, witty, kind, talented, and sexy.

Mark was not sexy in a bad boy kind of way like Roger had been to her. Nor was he sexy in the pretty boy way that she once saw in Benny.

Mark had his own brand of sexiness, the way he could hold her close and resist letting his hands roam. The way his intense blue eyes sent shivers up her spine. Or even the fact that his slight form was far more toned than she had let herself imagine.

Mimi remembered when Mark whispered in her ear, though it was accidental. The tone was unlike anything she had heard from his lips before, a deep needful sound. She knew he had only spoken one word, 'why?', but she was eager for it to not be the last.

Mimi thought herself a fool for having ignored the main thing that made her want to curl up next to him in the morning. He cared for her. Not just for her safety, but for her opinions, her hopes and dreams, even her comfort with what he had done for her this night.

"Okay," was all Mimi could muster as her heart pounded and a renewed smile slipped across her face. "So, what other lessons do you have for me?" Mark returned the smile and began informing Mimi of the importance of posture in ballroom dancing.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks to all of you who reviewed this and enjoyed

A/N: Thanks to all of you who reviewed this and enjoyed. Your comments encourage me to write more and make me feel like the effort is being well received. If you happen upon this story when it falls into the back of the archives, please show it some love. Enjoy!

As Mimi held the lilac shoes in her hand she thought back on the nights events and braced herself for what she had to do. Walking through the door barefoot and tired, she was met with the object of her mental dilemma.

"Hey, baby! You look good, where have you been all night?" Roger put his guitar to the side and began walking towards her, when he stopped himself. The look in her eye was not angry nor was it sad.

"I was out on a date with a friend. He took me out for my birthday," Mimi said the last word pointedly and watched as her boyfriend's face fell. "Roger, it's time we had a long overdue talk."

Roger nodded numbly as he braced himself for what was sure to be the last conversation he ever wanted to have with his dancer. He took her hand and led her into their bedroom, closing the door behind them.

"You're right…" his voice was weak and resigned, and Mimi was thankful. The less shouting there was the easier the talk would be on both of them.

Mimi knew she could not let her love disinterest carry on any longer. She loved Roger enough to admit it was over to him. But more importantly, she loved herself enough to admit she was no longer happy.

"So you're leaving me for, Mark?" Roger's voice echoed in Mark's head. His best friend sounded betrayed and Mark wondered how long it would be before he was beaten senseless and blamed for Roger's failing relationship.

"No, I'm leaving you for me. What Mark did tonight was amazing, but I had already planned on doing this." Mimi's voice was calm and collected. Apparently she had taken some of the things Mark had said to heart.

Mark quickly wrote off that notion. He knew how strong-willed Mimi was, if anything, he was just the icing on the cake for her.

"Fuck." Roger's voice sounded resigned. Mark hoped maybe he would not be getting beaten to a pulp tonight after all. That would be the preferable way to end his evening, not in stitches or in an ambulance.

"Don't hate him. He isn't the cause of this, I was going to do it anyway." Mimi sounded sincere and despite himself, Mark was hopeful.

"But, baby, there has got to be something I can do. Anything, I can't lose you again!" Roger said, sounding desperate and belligerent.

"Roger," Mimi said tiredly. "You don't love me anymore; you want me to stay because I'm familiar."

"That's not true! I do love you, I do. You can't do this to me again." Roger bellowed, a hiccup followed shortly after. Mark squeezed his eyes shut tightly, upset by his friend's pain. Mark knew Roger was a crier when it came to fighting with Mimi at least that was what she had told him. He assumed this fight was no different.

"I can't do this to you? Who left for Santa Fe? Who left me because they couldn't deal with seeing their junky girlfriend go through withdrawal?" Mimi said accusingly as her voice rose. "We've grown apart, too far to come back together. You treat me like a child, even after all the things I have done and seen. I can't live like that anymore."

"Bullshit! I tried to help you, but you kept using. And then who did you turn to? Oh yea, Benny! Way to boost my confidence," Roger said his tone angry and condescending. Mark felt his fists ball as he heard Roger pull out the Benny card.

"Oh, don't even give me that shit. Would you stop playing the Benny card?" Mimi shouted and Mark had to smile slightly.

"Great minds…" Mark muttered to himself as Mimi gained momentum.

"I was trying and all you could do was blame. Even now, all you do is blame the past. You think I don't wish I did things differently? I do. You act like you are the only one carrying baggage but your not! How much do you really know about me? Think about it, when was the last time you asked me a personal question, beyond 'how was your day?' or 'are you using again?'"

There was a long silence and Mark winced in sympathy for Roger.

"I never ask you if you are using, Mimi. I know you've been clean for over a year now." Roger argued his voice weak.

"No, you just stare at my arms and look for tracks. That's worse than asking. Better yet, what was yesterday, Roger?" Mimi asked, her voice dropping.

"What does it matter what day it was?" Roger questioned, his voice full of confusion.

"My birthday. That's why it matters. I turned twenty-one while you skated through your day, completely unaware of it." Mimi's voice was harsh and Mark could almost hear the tears falling down her face.

"Baby, I," Roger began and Mark heard footsteps, he assumed it was Roger moving to comfort Mimi.

"No," Mimi said firmly, the steps stopped abruptly. "Don't call me that anymore. I haven't been yours for a long time now. We barely touch or even kiss anymore." Mimi pointed out between quiet sniffles.

"We had sex,"

"When?" Mimi challenged.

"Last week…ish?" Roger tried, his voice rising in question.

"Try last month…ish." Mimi snapped coldly and Mark chuckled. She was such a fire cracker and Mark only hoped her sharp tongue would not be turned on him later. Mark gave up on trying to ignore the conversation, they were too loud and he was too tired to put forth the effort.

Dancing the night away with the girl of your dreams takes its toll Mark reminded himself.

"Sure we had sex," Mimi continued, "but it was all so mechanical and routine. And the scary thing is that I was almost comfortable with it. It was nice to not worry about the HIV, but I just assume cut penetration out of my sex life and be happy."

"Is he really worth giving up your sex life for?" Roger questioned, his voice gaining the cocky edge that Mark knew Mimi hated. Mark wondered if Roger's dominance would win out, leaving him alone to defend himself and salvage what would be left of two awkward friendships.

"He's worth making an honest attempt. Besides you know as well as I do that there are ways around it. Don't look at me like that, I'm done with you flipping the sexy switch to get me to forget about the fact that our connection isn't there anymore."

"Aw, c'mon, baby. You know you can't resist," Roger cooed and the floor creaked again, Mark had the image of Roger advancing on her in his mind.

There was a loud stomp before Mimi shouted, "If you come one step closer to me I will bury this heel in your fuckin' head!" The footsteps stopped and then moved backwards slowly.

"Mimi, I was just trying to," Roger said, the confidence stripped from his voice.

"No, Rog. Ya know what? You are always _trying to_. For someone that tries so damn much, you don't get a lot done. Now I tried real hard to do this the easy way, but apparently even that doesn't work with you. I'm done with you. If you wanna be friends after all this, you need to step off and take a hint. This is not a fight. This is a closing argument and I would appreciate it if you would stop treating me like some toy that you can replace batteries for. The fire is out, Roger. I'm sorry, but it's over." Mimi finished and Mark was reminded that his princess from the ball was from a rough neighborhood where aggression reigned supreme.

There was much that Mark knew about Mimi, but even more that he did not. She always came across as fun loving and daring, but there was an edge to her that Mark had observed during their talks. An edge that was dark and angry, it was always there, just under the surface. For the most part she kept it tucked away, but at moments like this, Mark admired her ability to tap into at the right time. Never letting her anger consume her, only fuel her.

Mimi was a beautiful paradox and Mark felt privileged that she shared her mysteries with him. Even if she did not always notice that she was sharing.

"Mimi, baby, you can't possibly mean that! Not after everything we've been through, you can't end it like this." Roger reasoned, the disbelief in his voice fading with each syllable.

"We are dying. As in, we are going to die. Do you really want to spend the rest of your time on Earth, fighting for something that isn't there? Because I can't do it, not anymore. The good times we had, were amazing. And I will always be here for you, but I'm not in love with you anymore."

There was a long pause and Mark wondered if Roger had vanished into thin air or if he was finding a blunt object to bring with him into Mark's room.

"Do you love him? Honestly?" Roger's voice was resigned as he voiced the question that hung in back of Mark's mind as well.

"It's too early to put a title on it…This has less to do with him than you think. You're his brother and I know it seems like he went behind your back, but there is a lot you don't know. You have no idea how many times he stopped me from running away after we fought, or how often he would tell me to talk to you. Please, don't hate him. If you ever loved me at all, ever knew me, know that this is my choice."

Mark shoved his head under the pillow, he had heard enough through the walls to know that it was not his place to be listening anymore. He would have an answer when Mimi was prepared to give him one, and to listen in any further may cheapen his delusions.

Or dreams. They could be dreams, and those come true every once in awhile, right? Mark thought as he wrapped the pillow tightly around his eyes and ears.

Mimi and Roger had been talking, not fighting; just talking about their relationship for somewhere in the neighborhood of two hours and it always fell back to Mimi defending Mark's actions, taking care to point out how unsure he was about even dancing with her.

Mark hated the walls for being so thin. He did not want to hear their conversation, and he definitely was not ready to hear Mimi detach herself from the evening.

Mark recalled all the smiles they had shared during their dance, and he remembered how sincere her answers had been before she knew it was him. He calmed and reassured himself that Mimi would not walk away from him as a friend, even if she did decline on a relationship in the future.

He wondered what the morning would bring.

Just as Mark began to doze off into dream land his bedroom door was opened. He flinched away from the light that was turned on and quickly fumbled for his glasses.

"Roger?" Mark panicked at the figure of his friend and found himself formulating excuses in his head.

"Mark, I talked to Mimi," he did not sound angry, that was a good sign. "I just wanted to tell you, I'm going to be moving into Benny's old room, and uh, if you and Mimi could not kiss around me for awhile, I'd really appreciate it."

Roger began closing the door before poking his head back in, "Oh, and I'm glad it's you. I couldn't deal with losin' her to a junkie or even a stranger. But I know you'll take care of her. And, I know you're not the reason she left me, so don't worry about me, hating you or anything like that. Just, don't get all panicky thinking you've lost me as a friend. It's gonna be a little weird for a bit, but truthfully, me and Mimi haven't been together for few months now. So, just, don't try to hard, like, getting me to talk and that kind of thing, cause I'm still you're friend, but this is going to take some time for me to get used to. But, umm…yea, good night."

The door clicked closed and Mark stared at the grain of the wood for a long while after his best friend walked out of it. When his head finally hit the pillow, he felt himself falling asleep even as his mind raced around Roger's brief 3 a.m. monologue.

When Mark woke up later that day, he shuffled into the living room to see Mimi curled up on the couch. She was staring at her reflection on the television and Mark shook his head as his stomach flipped.

"Hey," she whispered, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Hey, Meemz," Mark said, taking a seat on the weathered fabric a seat over from her.

"Look, Mark, about last night, I just wanted to say thanks. Not just for the dance lessons, but for everything. I'm still in some form of shock over it all, but it was most definitely the sweetest thing someone has ever done for me, and… I want us to be something, at some point in the near future. I just broke up with Roger and he knows everything and-"

"We just need to take it slow," Mark said, placing a hand on Mimi's shoulder and smiling. She nodded eagerly and brushed her cheek against his knuckles.

Mark reached for the remote and flipped on cartoons, within a few minutes, Mimi had curled into his side and his arm was draped over her shoulders. They fit together, there was no denying that.

And every time the cat on the screen was tricked by the mouse, Mimi laughed loudly and pointed at the screen, and Mark smiled at her joyfulness.

And every time Bugs outsmarted Elmer, Mark would slap his knee and comment about the practicality of the Bunny's ploy, and Mimi would smile at his innocence.

Mark turned his head and saw Roger shuffle out of his room into the kitchen. When Mimi let out a joyful squeal, Roger turned his head to the couch and caught Mark's eyes. A small, sad smile appeared on his face, yet he still managed to nod a greeting towards his roommate.

"I really don't see why she laughs harder at Tom and Jerry than Bugs Bunny," Roger said making his way over to the couch where his best friend and ex-girlfriend were cuddling.

"Because, Jerry the little mouse always wins! And he's so cute!" Mimi gushed and pointed at the brown mouse on the screen.

"Verdict is still out on which one is the mouse. I don't think it's ever clearly defined," Mark added, in the back of his mind he was waiting for Roger to morph into the Hulk and hit him. "Doesn't matter, Bugs Bunny is clearly the superior cartoon animal," Mark said, and was punched in the shoulder by Mimi.

Roger and Mark pounded fists in agreement and shared a smile as Mimi babbled onward about the cuteness of Tom and Jerry versus Bugs Bunny.

After a few minutes more of ragging on Mimi's favorite cartoon Roger went back into his room, leaving Mimi and Mark alone again. Mimi pressed a soft kiss to Mark's shoulder and wiggled herself deeper into his side. Every time a commercial hit they would look at each other and smile. And all either could privately think about was how explosive that first real kiss would be when the moment came for them to share it.

THE END


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